


Row With Fresh Oars

by bergann



Category: Numb3rs, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Crossover, Don't Ask Don't Tell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-02
Updated: 2010-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergann/pseuds/bergann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Row With Fresh Oars

**2013**  
Evan's stuck in a closet, of all things, with Don for the better part of four hours after their suspect unexpectedly comes home early while they're still in the process of planting bugs, and with some armed company.

They're both armed, but two armed FBI agents against five armed thugs is still a bad plan.

Don says there's no way Nikki and the others will risk storming in when they know Don and Evan are in there, especially not when there's no way there'd be grounds for putting these guys behind bars. Besides, there are FBI agents in a van down the road aware of their situation and able to communicate with the others about the wisdom of storming into the house.

This leaves them stuck in the closet playing increasingly cut-throat games of tic-tac-toe on the back of some receipts dug out from their wallets until there's the sound of voices shouting goodbye and the front door slamming shut.

"You think they're gone?" Don asks, pen hovering over the paper halfway finished with an X.

"God I hope so," Evan says with feeling. His legs passed beyond the point of cramping a couple of hours ago.

They ball up their receipts, erasing any evidence of the hours spent there, and with their gun in hand; they slowly creep out of the closet and down the hall. They find their suspect on the couch, bottles of beer all over the table, and Don elbows him in the stomach as he ducks back behind the wall.

"He's sleeping," Evan says, which means they do their best to move out of the house as quietly and quickly as possible.

Safely back in the car, after letting the agents in the van know they're out alright and wishing them luck with the eavesdropping, they take some time to just laugh with relief and over the absurdity of the situation, before Don starts the engine and they head back to the office.

Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.

"Is something wrong?" Don asks, glancing over.

"I don't know," Evan answers, knows he can't make any sort of useful call while still in the car with Don, so instead he changes over to the contacts and says instead, "We should probably let the others know what took us so long."

Don nods, laughing a little, "Doesn't matter how fast you tell them, we're still going to hear about it for ages."

"Yeah," Evan agrees, and calls Nikki anyway to let her know that yes, they're out okay. Yeah, they realize how funny this is. Yes, they'll be back soon.

It takes another hour, and another missed call from Laura, before Evan's home and able to return the calls. He figures he might as well start with the one who seems most desperate to get in touch with him, who will also be the safest, and dials Laura's number as soon as he's through the door.

"Finally!" She says, answering after the very first ring. "You fucker, I thought you were ignoring me!"

"Long day at work," Evan says, "What's going on?"

"You don't know?" Laura asks, "I mean, I figured the news would be new when I first called but by now, how can you not know? What kind of rock does the FBI put you under?"

"Laura, just tell me now whether or not I should be looking for my nice suit." Evan's not begging, but he's close to it, full of restless energy that makes him start to wander the apartment just to displace some of it. He doesn't worry about Atlantis now as often as he had in the beginning, when he'd spent nearly every other day acutely aware in a way he'd never been before of the fact that he has friends in a completely different universe, going to unexplored planets with potentially unfriendly alien races.

"Why would you --" She starts, sounding confused before realization hits, "Oh. Evan, no. It's not that. Atlantis is safe. This? This is good news."

"What kind of good news has you, Mitchell, Daniel _and_ my SGC lawyer calling me within minutes of each other?" Evan asks, because aside from Laura, the main form of communication with his past is pretty much just e-mail. They wouldn't call unless it was something big.

Laura laughs. "Shit, that's one way of rooting out some of the formerly perceived bad seeds," she says. There's a note from Colby on the kitchen counter, hastily scrawled _Watching the game at David's. Back later._ "Evan, they've removed the ban."

"What?"

"Hold on, listen to this," Laura says, and there's the rustling of some paper. "'President Obama announced today at a White House press conference that the rumors regarding the repeal of the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy are completely true. New directives have been drawn that will allow homosexuals and lesbians to serve in the U.S. military without fear of discharge.'"

"What?"

"Evan, that's not even all! He said they're opening up for re-enlistment for anyone who was discharged under the policy. There's even talk of those who'd been working on classified projects being allowed back on them so long as they pass a couple of evaluations."

It's been four years since Evan had to leave Atlantis, two years since the nation got truly restless over the ongoing debate on the gay ban, but the policy codified at section 654 of Title 10, United States Code -- the reason he had to leave in the first place -- has finally been successfully repealed.

*

**2009**  
It's the first night in over three weeks Evan sleeps relatively well. Usually, he sleeps better next to Colby than he does on Atlantis -- the apartment is usually equated to a sanctuary, even with the occasional bad memory tied here and there, but it's just not happening this time. He thinks Colby knows something is up, but he's giving Evan room to approach him with it first.

He's debating whether or not to join Colby in the kitchen before he disappears off to work, feeling rested now, when the phone rings.

There's the low murmur of Colby's voice for a few moments before he appears in the doorway, holding it out to Evan. "It's Erika," he says, and disappears out of the bedroom as soon as the phone is out of his hands.

"Hello?"

"So I guess I should be happy I'm not the only one who was unaware of your discharge from the Air Force," Erika says, her voice tight with emotion. "I was angry before, but in a way some shouting would've cured. Now I want to fly down there and kick your ass! You didn't even tell _Colby_?"

"What?" Evan says, just as there's the very distinctive sound of the front door slamming shut. He walks out of the bedroom to find Colby's breakfast still there, half-eaten, and the rest of the apartment empty. "Shit."

"You, Evan Lorne, are an idiot," Erika says. "It's been two weeks. Never mind that you apparently didn't see fit to tell your own sister and so I had to hear it from my husband, but how the hell could you not have told him? He's your boyfriend!"

"Erika," Evan tries, but she's on a roll.

"No, you listen to me little brother. I am sorry you got discharged, I know how much you loved your job -- wherever it was you were stationed and whatever the hell it was you did there -- but you should have told him about it the minute you came back. You should have called while you were waiting on the paperwork; scratch that, you should have waited for them _with_ him. Do you know what kind of signal it sends when you don't mention to him that you've added to the gay discharge statistic?"

"I just needed some time," Evan says, and the excuse sounds weak even to his ears. His intention had been to tell Colby every day, but there'd always been something causing the words to stick in his throat. "Fuck, I don't know, okay? We never discussed this. We specifically _didn't_ discuss this, because frankly, it wasn't anything I even wanted to think about. We just -- we never discussed this."

"Evan, I love you, but are you honestly telling me you're afraid he's going to -- what? Ask you to leave? Tell you he's not ready to see his boyfriend more than a week every three months, and that's only if he's lucky?"

"Now it sounds stupid."

"It already sounded stupid," Erika says, "I know you guys are too manly to ever talk about silly things like your feelings to each other, but allow me to act as interpreter: Colby loves you just as much as you love him. If you don't talk to him, he's going to think you're blaming him for the entire thing, and if you don't apologize pronto, he's going to think you hate him for it."

"I don't --" The words stop, too many responses to choose just one, because blaming Colby for the loss of Atlantis had never even occurred to him. The possibility that Colby might think he does feels a lot like a punch to the gut from Ronon did.

"I know you don't," Erika's voice is gentle, like she can hear all the words he's not saying. "Which is good, because if you did, I'd fucking hate to be your sister. It takes two to fuck, and sometimes it takes a government to fuck people over. You should remind him of that."

"Erika --"

"I'm still angry you didn't tell me," She interrupts, "But I don't kick a man when he's down, so I'm postponing our conversation about this until you've squared things up with Colby. Oh, and Evan?"

He swallows. "Yeah?"

"Congratulations on your promotion."

"Thank you," he says, and sits with the dial tone buzzing in his ear for a long moment before going back into the bedroom to get dressed.

*

His memories of that last week on Atlantis are mostly a hazy blur as though he's looking at them through fog.

There are three memories which stand out clearly, in between all the upset and commiserating words of friends, better than Woolsey's determined arguments with the SGC bureaucrats, and better than Radek's incensed search for loopholes.

The first is Sheppard's face as he announced his orders from the SGC to open up a limited inquiry on suspected conduct unbecoming. _It's minutes before Sheppard's team is scheduled to go off world, a three-day mission, and Evan hadn't been surprised at all when he later learned that Sheppard had kept the orders secret. If Woolsey had known, the mission would've had to be cancelled and the inquiry started immediately. As it is, Sheppard'll be able to claim he hadn't seen it until he got back. "With any luck, maybe I'll get shot somewhere non-fatal," he says, and the real kicker is that he probably means it, "Give you more time."_

Three days later, the team had stepped back onto Atlantis, and Sheppard had said, "Man, so the one time a cultural misunderstanding is desired, the chief's daughter isn't interested."

The second memory is of Teyla showing up at his room, two days before he'd been scheduled to leave. _"Athos and its people would welcome you with open arms, Evan, and help you."_

He's smiling as he replies with, "As tempting as it is to go AWOL, I kind of owe it to someone to go back to Earth."

Teyla bows her head, touching their foreheads together, and that close he's able to see her eyes glittering. "I thought as such, but felt you should be entirely aware of your choices."

"Thank you. For everything."

"I am and always will be your friend, Evan Lorne," Teyla says, a small smile on her face that tells him she is well aware of the words she's using. "And I hope you would do me one last favor, one friend to another, and join me and my people for tea."

"I'm not allowed out of the city."

"I am aware. However, I believe it is one of your Earth sayings that if the mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain. John and Rodney were more than happy to ferry us from the mainland."

"It'd be my pleasure," Evan answers, and the clarity of that particular memory always ends there, dissolving instead into a jumbled mess of tea, dance and tearful goodbyes.

The third memory is of Colonel Mitchell, barely minutes after Evan's stepped through the gate back to Earth to start the discharge process, grinning slightly as he promoted Evan to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. _"I submitted the paperwork a while back, but wasn't sure it'd make it through in time."_

"You have a good lawyer," Radek informs him after, who'd actually come through the gate with him as 'moral support' and been the one to hire Evan's civilian lawyer. He hadn't asked, either, just informed Evan after the fact he now has a civilian lawyer to handle his case. "You can now get separation pay at O-5 pay grade. It's half-pay still, but it can make all the difference, yes?"

Evan hadn't really cared if his half-pay was $6,000 more than it would have been at an O-4 pay grade, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Besides, it'd given him a kind of perverse pleasure to get promoted while in the process of an honorable discharge for conduct unbecoming.

*

"You just missed him," David says when Evan enters the FBI office. "He's out canvassing an apartment building for leads with Don."

"Nearly gave me a black eye in the process," Nikki puts in dryly, wandering out from their conference room. "Idaho was awfully enthusiastic about that detail."

"Any idea when he'll be back?"

"Depends on their luck," David shrugs, "Probably around lunch. You can probably wait at his desk if you want."

It's three hours until lunch, but Evan still decides to accept the offer. "Thanks."

David nods, turning back to his work, and Nikki follows suit. Evan's left staring kind of blankly at the things on Colby's desk, until David says, "Hey," and nudges his arm with the corner of a book. "Since you're going to be waiting, might as well spend the time reading something that doesn't stand a chance of potentially getting you in trouble."

Evan accepts the copy of _The FBI Career Guide_ with a raised eyebrow.

"So," David says ignoring Evan's expression. In a way, Evan's kind of grateful that he's not even trying for casual. "What's happened this time?"

Evan snorts. "Isn't it bad enough you usually end up involved even when you don't ask?"

David shrugs, looking slightly sheepish. "You're my friends. I don't mind, and no offense, but you're both kind of idiots. Someone's got to step in and be the voice of reason."

"None taken," Evan says wryly, "But I think in this instance I should explain things to him first."

"I get that," David says, "But I'm your friend too. If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"Thanks."

"Enjoy the book," David says, grinning a little as he moves back to his desk. "It's a real page turner."

Evan takes a moment to just stare at the cover of the book, before he decides that it's a better option than just staring out at the office and thinking.

He abandons the book after the third hour passes, unable to concentrate anymore, and takes a brief smoke outside that he bums off a woman who tells the same story about trying to quit that everyone does, even as she was handing one over.

He's barely back at Colby's desk for ten minutes, just watching the elevator and not really expecting anything, when Don and Colby step out with takeout boxes. There's a small halt in Colby's steps when he spots him.

They disappear into the break room with the food, but Evan remains where he is, waiting. He gets to his feet once Colby comes back out, shifting nervously. "Hey."

"I thought we could go to lunch," Evan says, "I owe you an explanation."

"I can probably leave for an hour," Colby nods. "You been smoking?"

"Yeah," Evan says, doesn't elaborate or mention that it's not his first since coming back, even as relief floods through him along with the urge to just spill everything. "You want to go some place close?"

"Sure," Colby says, letting the smoking go. "I don't really feel like driving, and I'm guessing you took a cab."

"Actually, I walked."

"What?" Colby laughs a little, obviously not taking him seriously, which Evan can kind of understand. Colby's apartment isn't really that far from the office, but it's still a long walk -- especially in a city like Los Angeles where walking has become practically outdated. "You're serious."

"Yeah," Evan says, slightly awkward smile on his face. "I needed the time to think."

Colby doesn't answer, just casts him a calculating glance, and leads the way to a diner two blocks down.

"Can't mess with the stereotypes," he says as they enter, grinning. He'd relaxed a bit once they'd hit the street, as though he'd been as unwilling as Evan to have this particular conversation in a governmental building. Old habits die hard, Evan supposes, as they slide into a secluded booth.

They don't talk about it until after the food, instead Colby talks about this crazy lady he and Don had run into while going door-to-door, who'd thought Don was her run-away nephew or something. They discuss the current case a little, compliment the food -- it's kind of a miracle they don't get started on the weather.

But once the plates are cleared away and they're left with their drinks, Colby leans back against the vinyl and says, his voice deceptively neutral, "So what happened?"

"Remember I called you after my leave got cancelled a couple of months back?"

Colby nods, looking a little like he thinks Evan is crazy. "Yeah, there was an unscheduled mission."

Actually, an alien pathogen had erupted from some plant SG-8 had brought through the 'gate and everyone on base had ended up quarantined for a week until the doctors figured out how to remove the green spots. But that's not something Evan will ever be able to tell Colby, so he just nods instead. "Apparently a visiting Lieutenant General known for his bigot views overheard a statement indicating my likelihood to engage in conduct he perceived unbecoming of an Air Force service member. He notified the Major General of my base, who held onto it until the Lieutenant General started pressuring him and he had no choice but to pass the inquiry down to my commanding officer."

"Shit," Colby says.

"He warned me," Evan says, feels this need to make it clear that at least his CO did that for him. "He had a three-day mission. Told me before he moved out. Once he was back, they tried to postpone it even more, but this Lieutenant General wanted an example made. He implied my command would be going against the statue and regulations too by not pursuing the matter. Once that message reached us, the inquiry lasted a couple of days before I was shipped back stateside." He tries for a smile, fighting back the memories, but he doesn't think the smile's all that successful. "A month later the last of it was done, and I was officially honorably discharged. Expecting my O-5 pay grade separation pay any day now."

There'd been nothing for it. His case hadn't been a case on falsely accused injustice like the reports and newspapers usually quoted. He'd broken the regulations, and once the SGC had exhausted their procrastination options, there'd been no other option than an Honorable Discharge for Conduct Unbecoming.

"O-5 pay grade?" Colby says, frowning. "Thought Majors were O-4."

"A week before my discharge papers were finalized, I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel."

Colby laughs, like Evan had expected he would. "Always nice to know the military's still dealing with paperwork the same pace as always."

"Yeah," they grin at each other for a moment, sharing the joke, before Evan grows serious again and adds, "I meant to tell you once I got back, first thing I meant to say. I just -- it never really hit me until I got here that I can't go back, and it took me a while to deal with that."

Colby nods slowly. "I get that."

The thing is that Colby really doesn't. He's probably imagining Evan's just going through the adjustment every soldier returning from a war zone goes through. There's some of that, but mostly he's been feeling the loss of a home. Of a whole other universe. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Don't worry about that," Colby says, "Situations like these are becoming kind of familiar."

"Hopefully the last one," Evan acknowledges. "I know we haven't talked about this kind of situation, we haven't planned anything, so if you'd rather I get my own --"

"If you end that sentence with 'place', we're going to end right back at square one," Colby interrupts. "I'm really sorry you lost your job, Evan. It sucks that after all you've put into your career, they discharged you for this. But I can't -- I can't pretend like I'm not glad you won't be leaving again at the end of the week. I'm in this, same as I was when I had no idea whether or not you're at the wrong end of a gun."

Before Evan can say anything, they're interrupted by Colby's cell phone going off. Colby shoots him an apologetic look and the cell an annoyed one before he answers.

"We have a break in the case," he says, "Someone heard we were asking questions, showed up at the office to answer a few. I've got to go. You want the car?"

"Nah," Evan shakes his head, "I think I'll call Laura, see if she hasn't got time for an old friend."

"She knows?"

"Don't think so," Evan says, "Or she'd have made it clear she knows by now."

Colby snorts, shrugging on his jacket. "Too bad I'll miss it. I'll see you later." Evan acknowledges it with a grin, tilts his head up because he _can_ now, without worrying about consequences, and Colby's smiling as he leans in to kiss him.

"Unexpected perk," Evan says, smirking, and Colby chuckles.

"This? This we're definitely talking about later," Colby says, and then he's gone.

"He's sweet," their waitress says, coming up to the table.

Evan's feeling pretty good about everything right now, so he smiles up at her and says, "You only say that because he didn't leave you with the check."

*

He hadn't actually expected Laura to be home, but she enthusiastically invites him over on the condition that he brings beer.

"What are you doing back?" She asks, letting him in after giving him a hug and liberating him of the six-pack. "Is it just you? I haven't heard anything from the others."

"Just me," Evan says, "It's a kind of permanent thing."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Laura says, looking suddenly vulnerable.

"I'm the proud new owner of a DD-214," Evan says, "For conduct unbecoming. We match now."

"You _fucker_," Laura says, shoving at his chest. "How can you joke about that? What the fuck happened? You wouldn't have left voluntarily."

"It's a long story."

"You're not leaving until you do," Laura says, "How come you didn't tell me? How come _nobody_ told me?"

"To be fair, most of the people who would tell you are in another universe."

"That doesn't excuse you," Laura says, but she doesn't punch him or shove him this time. "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's an insensitive response."

Evan shrugs, gives a half-hearted grin. "I know better than to expect sensitive from you."

Laura sticks her tongue out at him, and disappears into the kitchen for a moment to put the beer into the refrigerator before returning with only two. They sit and talk for a while about Atlantis, and Laura's job, just circling the real elephant in the room until Evan folds while he's on his third beer and she's still on her first. He recounts the complete details of his discharge. In a way it's more freeing to tell it to Laura, who he doesn't have to censor anything from because of security clearances and confidentiality agreements. "You adjusting?" She asks, when he's done.

"Kind of," Evan says, a half-truth and Laura knows it. "I'll get there. It's hitting me more now that Colby and Erika know."

"You need something real to do." Laura says, "Build a cabin, help the hungry, or get a job. That sort of thing. Until I had a job, all I could think about was Atlantis. What I'd be doing there, how I'd be making McKay's life difficult, all that. Didn't matter I was with Jeanette or that I'd left voluntarily, I was still thinking of it."

"Where'd I work?"

"I can't see you in any old job," Laura admits. "But you've got your impressive engineering degree. That opens up some doors for you."

"I was considering the FBI," Evan says, and he's not sure who's more surprised by the admission. It had been this half-formed thought that'd been in his head since he'd put down the career guide three hours earlier, but he hadn't actually seriously been considering it.

"Really?" Laura asks, eyebrows rising. "Are you joining in Colby's footsteps?"

"I don't know," Evan says, "If I don't join now, I won't be able to. They stop accepting at thirty-seven."

Laura raises her eyebrows. "And the process takes how long?"

"Six months for the application, maybe a little less if Colby gets Don to put a word in. Then five months at the Academy. No way of telling with the security clearance."

"You'd be cutting it close," Laura says. "You sure you want to make the decision under that kind of deadline? You won't even get to enjoy some vacation time."

"Better than making it too late," he shrugs.

Laura hums. "I guess, and you can always drop out if you change your mind."

Evan laughs a little. "That'll be a good story for Colby's friends."

"You told him you're considering it?" Laura asks curiously, "Because the country is big. You won't be able to request a transfer until at least, what? Two years later?"

"_This_ you know about?"

She shrugs. "No, that was mostly guessing."

"I haven't told him," Evan says, "I wasn't even aware I was seriously considering it until I told you."

"Well," Laura grins. "When you've put that much consideration into it, it's clearly a great idea. Go for it."

"Leave me alone," Evan says, "I've recently been through a very trying ordeal."

Laura snorts. "Then it's good that doesn't matter to me, as I've heard myself been called both insensitive and unsympathetic."

"That last one wasn't me."

"I know," Laura says, "I just thought I'd make it clear before I ask my next question."

"Which is?"

"Why are you drinking now?" She's studying at him carefully all of a sudden, her eyes sharp.

"What?"

"It's 1400 hours," she says, "and you've just had an, by all accounts, lovely lunch with your very special agent, yet in my company alone you've had four beers. So as a friend, I'm asking you: are you drinking because you've lost Atlantis, because you're mad you got discharged, or because you're afraid Colby'll realize that if there'd been a choice, between him or Atlantis, he might not have won?"

"I'll see myself out," Evan says, already on his feet by 'company'. "Thanks for the talk."

"Evan!" Laura shouts after him, since he's only touching every third step. "Lorne, you stupid son of a bitch, you can't avoid this!"

*

"Hey," Colby calls from the kitchen, once the door slams shut behind Evan. "Where you been?"

"Gym," Evan says, dumping his sweaty clothes in the hamper. "You've been home long?"

"Nah, maybe half an hour. I figured I'd start dinner, call if you didn't show up by the time it was done." Colby's sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper open in front of him and one eye on the boiling water on the stove. He looks up when Evan walks into the room, gives him a happy smile. "We solved the case."

"Yeah?" Evan says, deliberately going for a water bottle instead of the beer next to it in the fridge. He leans against the counter next to Colby, just far enough away to not be in the way.

Colby starts talking about the case, and their witness caller who'd turned out to be paranoid enough to have a security camera pointing down the hall in the direction of the apartment the body was found in. It keeps them going through dinner, and it's so comfortable and normal that Evan isn't expecting it when Colby suddenly goes, "So Laura called me today in a panic," while they're on the couch.

Evan can't help but tense, even though he knows Colby can feel it and will make note of it. "Yeah?"

"She said she's sorry," Colby says, running a soothing palm down Evan's spine. "Invited us over for dinner once Jeanette gets back this weekend."

"Nothing else?"

Colby shrugs. "Not really."

"Okay," Evan says, "I'll -- I'll call her tomorrow."

"Okay," Colby repeats, no particular infliction in his voice at all. There's a brief surge of anger towards him for never really pushing unless Evan asks or makes him, even though that's been one of the things Evan's always appreciated about their relationship -- how Colby'd never pushed or asked when the details of the stories Evan told to keep his cover didn't add up.

"I'm going to go to bed," Evan says, only lifts himself up enough to first press his lips against Colby's before getting off the couch completely.

"I'll be in once this ends," Colby says, gesturing towards the TV with the remote. Evan nods and slips out of the room.

He lies still for a long time before he falls asleep, just lying there with his eyes closed, telling himself Atlantis is lost to him. He should do the smart thing, the considerate thing, and accept it before he loses the ability to keep himself in check.

*

Two days later, Colby has a day off. Evan had kind of expected them to spend it in the apartment, but Colby wakes him at five AM to go surfing. Surfing has always been more Colby's thing than Evan's; he likes it fine, but not with the same level of enthusiasm as Colby, who can talk about it for hours once you get him started.

It's not that often they go surfing together either, though it's not unheard of, and Colby's smiling through breakfast, talking about the huge front that's rolled in. They dig out the boards and wetsuits. Amazingly enough, they're in the car and on their way already by five-thirty.

They end up at Redondo Breakwater, six to eight footers crashing against the shore. It means the beach is already a little crowded, but Colby doesn't seem to care and Evan doesn't mind.

Even he can admit the waves are incredible, but eventually the size is big enough that he feels it best to retreat up to the beach and just watch instead. The sea has always had an incredible calming effect on him, exhilarating and therapeutic at once, the crash of waves against the shore triggering something inside him. If he closes his eyes, he can almost believe he's sitting on a pier in Atlantis.

Some teens eventually rope him into a game of volleyball, and by the time Colby's out of the water, he's breathing a little harder than he'd really like to admit.

"You feel like Mexican?" Colby asks, and he's smiling with exhilaration. Water is still dripping from his frame, and Evan's a little proud that he waits until after he's begged out of the game and they're over by the car before he pulls him close for a quick, bruising kiss that's maybe a little too dirty for a public setting.

"We'll have to wait until you're actually dry enough to be allowed inside," Evan says.

Colby chuckles, changing out of the wetsuit and into board shorts and a t-shirt Evan recognizes as his own. It's only fair, because Evan's fairly certain the shirt he's wearing belonged to Colby once. "They're used to it," Colby says, "If we walk, I'll be completely dry by the time we get there."

"Don't they work you hard enough at the FBI?" Evan asks once they're at the restaurant, amused over the fact that the walk had turned into a light jog instead. "Where's all this energy coming from?"

Colby shrugs. "I haven't been drinking and smoking like a pro the past couple of weeks either," he says, one eye still on the waves.

And, well, there's no real reply Evan can give to that, really, so he changes the subject with a very obvious, "You think the FBI would be interested in hiring a discharged pilot?"

"You thinking of becoming an agent?" Colby asks, surprised.

"I think it might be the only job for me back on -- back here," Evan says, swallowing the 'Earth' that he'd nearly let slip. "None of the others I've considered really hold much interest."

"You're allowed to relax and take some time off before you jump into another time-consuming job," Colby says. "You've only been out for a little over a month. Going into the Bureau isn't the same as picking up a pack of smokes and a six-pack of beer. You shouldn't treat them the same."

"I'm not. The smoking and the beer -- I finished my last pack today. I don't have any plans of getting a new one, and the beer will be strictly social," he shrugs, "I'm only asking now because the application process takes a while, and they don't accept those over thirty-seven. If I want to join, I need to do it now."

Colby nods slowly. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Well, you're kind of an ideal candidate for the Bureau, even more so with your Ph.D. Me and Don will probably be able to get you through the process a little faster, once you're contacted after the online application. If you really want to do this, you should go for it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Colby says, "I know I'd feel better knowing you were watching my back."

It isn't until later, back in the apartment, that Colby's expression becomes shuttered as he says, "You realize we'll probably see even less of each other than we did before?"

"What?"

"There's no telling where you'll be stationed," Colby says, all in a rush, like he's been keeping in the words all day. He probably has. "New agents don't really have a choice. Maybe we'll be lucky and you'll end up in the state, but you're just as likely to end up on the other side of the country. You can ask for a transfer after two years, but they usually don't happen until after four. Before, you at least had leave every couple of months. I'm not saying you shouldn't apply, but I wanted you to at least know, completely, before you did."

"Colby," Evan says softly, fingers catching him by the wrist. Colby moves quick, using the contact to pull Evan in, gripping his hips and waist tightly, fingers digging into flesh. Evan's fingers are tugging up Colby's shirt without any real thought, everything running on instinct and need.

Their mouths aren't touching, a small space still separating them that marks the tension between them better than Colby's eyes that hold a resigned look, this sudden awareness over the fact he's fallen for someone who's not really meant to stay still -- especially not after something as huge as Atlantis. It makes Evan ache, and he thinks there's as much a chance of this turning into a physical fight at the wrong step as there is for this tension to lead to truly fantastic sex.

The moment snaps, suddenly, and Colby's kissing him with intensity, soft lips and sharp teeth that nip on his lip in reprimand when he tries to shift them towards the bed. In a way, Evan's successful, as Colby backs off just enough to push him onto the bed.

Evan wants to tell him that he wouldn't leave, would be equally happy here, if he's asked to stay, but he feels like the words would ruin the moment and he keeps shut, implies it instead in the slide of his hand from Colby's chest, to his side, to his hip.

*

"You should apply," Erika says, when he calls her the next morning and explains everything. There'd been some shouting first, and tears from her side, as well as a brief interlude where Mark and Joe had wanted to say hi before going to school.

He'd been woken up by Colby's phone in the middle of the night, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to Colby's side of the conversation. He'd nearly fallen back asleep when Colby had sat back down on the edge of the bed, and told him to send in the application to the Bureau, so long as he put a little bit more thought into it and was sure that he wouldn't suddenly regret it later.

"A few days ago you were shouting at me for giving him the implication that I'd want to leave him because of this," Evan says, "Isn't that exactly what I would actually be doing that if I go?"

"No," Erika says, "There's a difference between the two."

"Yeah?"

"Before there was the possibility that you resented him at a base level for putting you in that position in the first place. This implies that you're dealing and accepting and moving on from it. It might --" Erika's quiet for a long moment, before she continues, "-- it might be a little faster than we'd been expecting, but it's still a good sign. This is also familiar to him -- he knows this territory and from the sound of things, he might feel that this is the best way for you."

"How so?"

"You're already used to being apart from each other," Erika says, "I'm just using my high school psych degree here, but I think he's afraid that by forcing you to stay might ruin everything in the long run. That's uncharted territory, and right now you're both equally lost. Plus, there's always that one other thing."

Evan swallows. "What's that?"

"He loves you," Erika says simply, "He wants you to be happy, no matter what. Same as if he suddenly decided to quit his job and start a surf shop. Would you stop him?"

"No."

"It's as simple as that, sometimes," Erika says. "If you want to do this, then you should. It might not be where you expected to end up, but I think you'd do just fine as an agent. Who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy it."

"When did you become the smart one?"

Erika laughs. "As a high school dropout, I mostly do it to annoy my doctored brother."

"Getting back where you can, huh?" Evan says, and stares at the FBI's Online Application page for an hour after hanging up before he hits 'send'.

He goes for a run.

*

Evan's never really thought all that much about the fact that Colby's friends know, other than an always present low-key relief around them that he doesn't have to watch every move. He's grateful for the fact that they do now, though, as it makes it easier to explain the state of things and his request to Don.

"Wow," Don says, "I had no idea this was happening."

"I wasn't exactly broadcasting it," Evan says. "Colby only found out a week ago."

"Shit," Don winces. "That's why he was all -- weird at work."

"Yeah," Evan sighs, "I could have handled it better."

"After something like that, who could blame you? Everyone would be a little messed up after that," Don shrugs. "I'll see what I can do to help push the process along on this end for you."

"Thanks," Evan says, "But that wasn't -- that wasn't the main reason I came here to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" Don's face shifts back into surprise. "Then why?"

"Is it possible that you could save the string pulling for possibly getting me a job somewhere in the area after I'm done at the Academy?"

Don's face clears. "I don't know," he says, "I mean, it's not like I'm the most influential person around, y'know, and things like that are supposed to be left to the needs. But I can definitely talk to some people, see if I can't pull a few favors."

"Thank you, Don," Evan says, "I really appreciate it."

"No problem, man," he says, clapping him on the back. "Does Colby know of this?"

"I don't --" Evan sighs, "I don't like the thought of keeping anything more from him, but I still feel like it's just better if I tell him only when I'm certain I'll be put somewhere close."

Don nods slowly. "Okay. You guys haven't had the easiest time, but I doubt your stationing is going to ruin anything. I get that though. I mean, I don't really like keeping anything from him, but I'll try and keep it low-key for you."

"This isn't so much that I'm worried about ruining anything," Evan says, "But if it's going to happen, I want it to be a surprise."

Don grins. "Now that's something I can support."

*

**2013**  
Colby doesn't come home until late, but Evan's still up and looking over the case files for anything he might have missed after spending most of the afternoon on the phone with Laura. Their main suspect in the case -- though there's really no doubt that he is their guy -- has done an incredible job of covering up his tracks. Any witness they manage to find are usually too scared to testify, even with the offer of Witness Protection, and those who do agree to testify turn out to have no information that can actually be used against him.

"I heard you ran into some problems planting the bugs," Colby says, grinning. He drops down on the couch next to Evan, a warm and solid weight against his side.

"Nikki?"

"Actually, it was Sarah," Colby laughs, "She's still scared of you and Don, I think. This made you both more human, and she can't help but be excited about it."

Evan chuckles. "It wouldn't be so funny if that closet had actually been used while we were in there."

"They're thugs," Colby says, "Stereotyping says it's okay to laugh."

"Yeah yeah," Evan says, "Make yourself useful and help me sort everything back into the right order. Everything okay with the Sinclairs?"

"Yeah," Colby nods. "I think both David and Rebecca are ready to have David back at work. From the looks of things, he's been driving her crazy around the house with nothing to do. You'd think taking care of the kid would be time consuming enough for him, but apparently he's going a little crazy. Not as bad as Don will be, though."

Evan laughs. "She had a lot to say about it, huh?"

"I don't see how the baby gets a wail in edgewise," Colby grins, "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you, man. The invitation was for the both of us, but I didn't know how long you were going to be stuck in that house for."

"It's fine," Evan says, "I got some work done. I'll just go over this weekend."

"Hey, we could take the kid off their hands for a few hours. Really be the spoiling uncles David asked us to be."

"Sure," Evan smiles, "You planning on asking David or making him work for it?"

Colby shakes his head. "What do you think? I want an actual 'please' before I admit to anything."

"I can't wait to see you try to relinquish control of the team when he gets back," Evan says, "You know he's going to make you pay."

Colby shrugs, "Still worth it. So hey, you heard the news about the repeal?"

"Yeah," Evan says, "When Don and me got out of the house, I had ten missed calls about it. Laura's through the roof."

"Really?" Colby asks, "I thought she left voluntarily under the policy for Jeanette?"

"Jeanette's being contacted by the project we worked on again, though," Evan explains, "They've been negotiating over consultation with the project leaders for a while. If Laura can rejoin under the new rules, and be assigned back to the project, it means they can both go back."

"Right," Colby says, "More above my head classified stuff. It's been a while."

"Actually, Daniel was dangerously close to revealing too much last time he was here," Evan said, "Actually, he probably did let something slip."

"All he did was talk about Ancient Egypt," Colby says, frowning. "At least, that's what he started talking about. My attention kind of started slipping around the middle."

"My point was that it wasn't that long ago," Evan says, "Just correcting your factual information."

"Great," Colby says, "How about providing actual info for my fact files, and not all these enigmatic clues?"

Evan just grins at him, the last of the papers sorted into the file, and starts to back Colby out of the room. "You know I'd tell you if I could," he says, because he'd share every detail he remembers of Atlantis with Colby in a heartbeat if there wasn't a mountain of paperwork somewhere in Cheyenne Mountain with his signature on them specifically prohibiting him from doing exactly that. "Good and bad."

"We'd trade stories," Colby agrees, an amused tilt to his mouth that Evan only gets glimpses off in between kisses. "What it was like to be a spy versus what it was like to work on something so classified that the smallest slip of detail gets a kick in the leg, even at a dinner party."

"You noticed that?"

"Radek didn't really go to any great lengths of hiding his indignation," Colby says, "I'd be more concerned if I hadn't seen it."

They've reached the bedroom and Evan presses Colby against the mattress, moving up to straddle him only once he's assured Colby won't try and move. It pauses their conversation for a while, and Evan's nearly falling asleep when Colby says, "So are you thinking of going back?"

"I don't know," he says honestly, after a pause long enough it's possible Colby assumed he'd fallen asleep. "I don't -- I thought I'd never be able to go back. I didn't even want to hope. But I like my life here, even if I never thought I'd actually be living in LA. I don't even know if they'll want me back on it."

"You're one of the better agents in the office," Colby says quietly, "Hell, in certain situations, you're one of the better agents in the Bureau. If your old command is even half as smart as they were when they tried to get you out of the charges, they'll want you back."

Colby falls asleep not too long after, but Evan remains awake with thoughts that he'd thought he'd successfully managed to pack away years ago. After everything they've gone through, the choice between Atlantis and Colby should be easy, but Sheppard wasn't the only one who felt a connection with the city. The actual discharge from the service he'd put his life into and based his career off had never hurt as much as the loss of Atlantis had.

*

**2010**  
By the time Evan left for the Academy, it had been a little bit of a relief. He'd been growing restless with nothing to do that had a real purpose beyond wasting time. The first couple of weeks of the wait he'd been okay, done what everyone encouraged him to do and looked at it like an extended vacation, but it took six months before everything had been cleared for Evan to fly out to Quantico.

Neither he or Colby were entirely sure about what to make of everything, slowly adjusting to going from barely seeing each other for more than a week every couple of months to every day.

Leaving for five months wasn't exactly ideal when they'd finally managed to fit themselves into each other's life -- although, to be honest, it had been more Evan fitting himself unexpectedly into Colby's life.

The thought of coming back to the apartment in five months with a new purpose though, with something to do except just sit around, made five months on the other side of the country, being the oldest guy in training by three years, worth it.

*

"Hey," Colby says, leaning against the doorway to the room Evan's been living in the past five months. "So I guess I was right about you being the perfect fit for the Bureau. Full honors."

"No 'hey Special Agent Lorne'?" Evan asks, eyebrow raised. "I'm hurt."

"I'm saving that for later," Colby says, smiling. "When we're not in a government training facility, and your roommate isn't likely to return any moment."

Evan gestures slightly with the unopened assignment. "Do you have any guesses about where I'll go?"

"My guess is as good as yours," he says, shrugging. "Though considering your experience from the Air Force and everything, my guess is you'll get a good one."

"Guess I'll just have to open it and see then," Evan says, shedding his jacket before settling down on the bed. "You going to just stand there or take a seat?"

"I just sat through a really long graduation ceremony," Colby says, "I think I'll stand for a little longer."

Evan flashes him a grin, before turning his attention to the envelope in his hands. He breaks the seal carefully, not sure he really wants to know where he'll go, since Don hasn't called to give any indication about whether or not he managed to get Evan a job close to LA.

"You want me to do it, tough guy?" Colby asks, and Evan wasn't aware he'd stopped moving, just staring down at the slip of paper. "Hey," he says, softer, taking a step into the room. "I know you'd rather be back out there -- doing top secret stuff, and that you didn't expect to find yourself here now but --"

"No," Evan says, "It's not that."

He holds the paper out to Colby, who's expression has gone worried, but he reaches out for it without a word, flipping it over to read what it says.   
The expression on Colby's face makes him laugh, part amusement, but mostly happy relief. "Don never said a fucking word," he says, walking towards Evan, still clutching the paper that says _Violent Crimes Squad, Los Angeles_. "How the hell did he swing this?"

"Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise," Evan suggests, grinning. "I asked him to try and swing it, but I wasn't expecting -- this."

"You asked him to throw his weight around?" he says, chuckling. "This was going to be mentioned to me, when?"

"I figured I'd wait until I knew if he could do it or not," Evan says, quietly amused. He watches as Colby places the letter carefully on the desk in one corner, toeing off his shoes as the letter is followed by his jacket. "I thought we were waiting until I didn't have a roommate who could walk in at any moment."

"That was before I knew you were really coming back," Colby shrugs, grinning, "And your roommate's an agent of the Bureau now. The quicker he gets used to unexpected sights and situations, the better it'll be for his career."

"Great advice," Evan laughs against Colby's lips, "You pick that from personal experience or is this just advice that gets passed down agent to agent?"

"A little of both," Colby says, getting to work on Evan's clothes. "I'll give you another one free, newbie."

"Oh yeah?" Evan arches up, gripping Colby's shoulders with one hand while the other strokes downwards. It's a movement meant mostly to help what Colby's trying to accomplish, but the effect is pretty much the opposite. "What's that?"

"Sometimes -- sometimes it's better to just -- take action instead of, ah, instead of talking."

"In the Academy, we got demonstrations," Evan says, "To make sure we understood."

"Then, Special Agent Lorne, allow me to demonstrate," Colby says, and there's a moment where they both freeze, staring silently at each other before Evan's body starts shaking, silently laughing until Colby loses it too, laughter spilling from both of them.

The moment of need is temporarily forgotten, replaced with this giddy relief that it won't be another two to four years of occasional visits and e-mails. Evan feels this huge weight lifted, the worries about being the asshole guy who can't stick around gone, and they're still laughing when Evan's soon-to-be former roommate walks in, which means it's a lot less embarrassing for all of them than it could have been.

*

"Here's the deal," Don says, standing at the front of the room, grinning. "The department's been planning to expand for a while, and I know David's been wanting to spread his wings and fly --"

"Fuck off," David laughs.

"-- so the solution seemed pretty obvious," Don continues, "David's received a promotion which means he gets his own team, and we were in need of a few extra people to fill the teams. Team divide! Team Two led by David Sinclair consists of Colby Granger, Natalie Amaretto and Sarah Valdez. Team One, led by me, consists of Nikki Betancourt, Evan Lorne and Randy Glover. These are mostly just theoretical teams, especially the first couple of weeks, but these are the people you'll be working with for the foreseeable future. If you don't like one, then you suck it up and deal. We're grown ups and agents of the law."

"In theory, anyway," Nikki mutters, while Don goes on to explain how things work around the department. "He's having way too much fun with this big reveal."

"He did manage to keep this secret from everyone," Colby points out, "I say he has at least some cause to be smug about it. Except for the part where you got promoted to team leader, that was clearly a mistake."

"I'm your boss now," David says, "I ain't hearing the respect I deserve."

"A record," Colby marvels, nudging Evan's hip with his shoe. "Only a minute and the power has gone to his head already."

"You can blast your music of rebellion later," Evan answers, "Right now you're being very rude while Daddy's talking."

Nikki laughs, "I'm glad you're on my team."

"Only at work," Colby's smirk is smug and suggestive as he leans back on his chair, and gives reasonable cause for Evan to aim a kick to his knee.

"Is my briefing disturbing your conversation?" Don asks, arms crossed although it's not hard to tell that he's amused.

"Nah," David says, "We're listening."

"Totally," Colby agrees, rubbing his knee.

"Wait," the guy introduced as Randy suddenly says, pointing at David. "If Eppes' is the dad, then that means you're the mom."

"You know what?" Nikki says, "I like you too, Randy. Why didn't we get you two replaced earlier?"

"You say that like you had a say in the matter," David says, "And I am not the mom. I have a girlfriend."

"Cool, so do I." Natalie says, holding out her curled up fist. David bumps it, eyebrows raised just a little, and Natalie grins as she says, "Which just goes to prove you can still be the mom."

"She's right," Colby says, waving his pen in Natalie's direction. "That remark was stupid, not to mention kind of homophobic. Since you're my boss and everything now, I'll let you go with just a warning."

"You know what?" Don says, "This stuff isn't that important, and the things that are can get picked up along the way. Why don't we just split up now and get to work?"

"He hasn't been reading leadership literature lately, has he?" Colby says in an undertone.

"Nah," David shakes his head, "This sounds more like Alan's been talking to him."

"Why don't you head to the other conference room, David?" Don says pointedly, "This is Team One territory."

Colby and David both roll their eyes, but they get up and head out of the room with Natalie and Sarah trailing after them. "What do you think?" Don asks, dropping into the seat vacated by Colby.

"Your leadership sets an example for us all, sir," Evan says, and Don narrows his eyes at him.

"You haven't even worked here a day," he says, "I should be thanked for pulling all of this off, and what do I get instead? Abuse."

"Life of the boss," Evan says. "Never appreciated."

"Your life is real hard," Nikki agrees, "I don't know how you stand it."

"Welcome to the team, ignore most of what they say," Don says, clapping Randy on the back. "Let's actually get some work done."

*

"You don't look too happy," Evan says, coming to a stop next to Nikki. She's frowning out at the desks, leaned against the doorway to one of the conference rooms. "Something happen?"

"Nah," she shrugs, "I'm just -- I'm trying to figure out what makes them so different."

Evan follows her gaze over to where Randy and Sarah are staring wide eyed as Don, David and Colby discuss something or tell them something, it's hard to tell from just hand movements alone and they're too far away to listen in. Natalie just looks slightly amused. "What do you mean?"

"I join up and it took them forever to warm up to me," Nikki says, body language signaling loud and clear that one wrong move by Evan and she'll shut right back up. "Now there are four of you new to the team, and they're all just great friends."

"That's got nothing to do with you," Evan says, a little surprised she hasn't realized. "The situations are different. We're not replacing anyone, we're here as part of an expansion of the team. They didn't have to lose someone. You came in to replace Megan, which means that no matter how much they liked you, they'd keep thinking that you were in a space you shouldn't be. Doesn't matter if the person being replaced died or left voluntarily or retired, the rest of the team will still have to cope with losing them and adjusting to someone new."

"So you're saying they would've treated anybody the same way?"

"Yeah," Evan says, "Team adjustments aren't easy for anyone. You never lost a partner or a team member?"

She shakes her head. "There have been a couple of close calls, but they've always come back to work eventually," she says.

"Then you'll just have to trust me on this," he says, glancing back over to where the others are sitting. Colby's looking in their direction, eyebrow quirked in a silent question. Evan smiles at him, quick, before turning his attention back over to Nikki. "There'll be clashing between us sooner or later. Right now, they're coasting on relief that they didn't have to lose anybody and us newbies are just trying to find our feet around here. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Lorne."

"Anytime," he says, smiling as he watches her join the others. After a quick stop inside the break room for more coffee, he follows.

*

"You okay?" Colby asks, walking up to the ambulance Evan was quite firmly ordered to not leave by a frazzled paramedic. He reaches out, taking the ice pack from Evan's hands, and Evan tilts his head to the side for him as he peels off the bandage. "Doesn't look that deep."

"I'm fine. I just got momentarily dazed," Evan says, "It's been a while since I've had anything swung at my head, let alone an iron hat stand."

Colby's lips quirk up slightly, gently smoothing back down the bandage before placing the ice pack back down over the cut and surrounding bruise. "So you decided it was best to just get it over and done with on the first raid you went on?"

"No. It just looked a lot worse than it is," Evan says, reaching up to take the ice pack back off Colby's hands, except Colby doesn't move his, thumb stroking over Evan's brow. Before they'd always had to be careful in public, play the role of two old Army buddies nearly everywhere. The ability to touch without fear of ramifications has been equally addicting for both of them.

"I don't know if I like it better or worse actually knowing where your injuries come from," Colby says softly. "Before it was mostly theoretical, except when your leave was scheduled too close for you to really heal before you got here."

"It's nothing," Evan says, voice low. He wants to say that he's survived everything a different galaxy could throw at him without problem, he's not letting some idiot with a hat stand take him down. Except if there's one thing Pegasus taught him, it's that spears can be a lot more dangerous than advanced modern weaponry. "I'm fine."

"Yeah," Colby says, stepping back as the paramedic walks up.

"How are you doing?" She asks, "Headache? Dizziness? Fatigue?"

"I've got a headache," Evan admits, "But I just got hit in the head with a hat stand."

Behind the paramedic, Colby's grin is a flash of white in the dark.

"Okay, smart guy," she answers, shining a pen light without warning into his eyes. "Track it, please. Okay. Your pupils look fine, and there's no sign of a concussion, but I want someone to check your memory every couple of hours just in case. Other than that, you're free to go."

"Thanks," Evan says, hopping off the back of the ambulance. He takes off the ice pack and holds it out, but the paramedic waves it off.

"That's for you to keep," she says, "Have a nice night."

"Thank you," Evan says, turning around and walking back to Colby's car.

"You alright, man?" David asks.

"Everywhere but my pride," Evan answers, "Any luck with the house?"

"We found a nice little stash of cocaine in the back, along with the murder weapon," Nikki says, "Not to mention the armed guys who were chilling in the living room and shot two local officers trying to run. Seems our honorable defense lawyer wasn't as honorable as everyone thought."

"Plus, there's the fact where he hit Evan with a hat stand," Don says, walking up to them. "You okay?"

"I'm not living this down," he says sadly to Colby, who just laughs.

"Don't worry," Natalie says, "If Feds get struck with the occasional case of the dumb as much as normal cops do, and I've been led to believe they get it even worse, there's going to be a new idiot next week."

"You're a fed too," Randy says, looking confused.

"I never said I didn't get the case of the dumb occasionally as well," Natalie says, shrugging.

"Save that kind of talk for when I'm not standing right here," Don says, "I've got a thing against having my agents badmouthing the institution they work for. Call it a quirk."

"Got it, boss," Natalie agrees.

"We done for the night?"

"Yeah," Don nods, "It's late. We've pretty much got all the evidence needed to make this stick, there's no hurry in interrogating him tonight. Go home, get some rest. With any luck, we'll have this wrapped by tomorrow."

"Night guys," Colby says, a statement echoed by all of them before they disperse.

"Nobody needs a ride back to the office?" Evan asks, a little confused since they showed up at the house four in one car.

"I squared it with them," Colby says, "It's fine."

They climb into the car, and Evan sinks gratefully into the seat. "I'm never going to live this down."

"I don't know," Colby says, "We'll probably replace it with something else eventually. Laura, though, she'll have a field day with this."

"Then don't tell her," Evan says, though he knows it's hopeless. Doesn't matter if they tell Laura or not, she's going to find out one way or another.

"Never said I was going to," Colby says, "You want to stop some place for food?"

"Nah," Evan says, letting the ice pack drop into his lap. His head is throbbing dully, but it's not as bad as it could be. "We've got leftovers in the fridge."

*

"You see anything?" Don asks through the earpiece.

"Nope," Nikki says, "It's completely quiet. Not even a breeze."

"Maybe Charlie's math is wrong," Randy suggests quietly. "I mean, they hit all those other places before midnight and it's two AM now."

"No," Don says, "If Charlie's math says they'll be here, they'll be here."

"So hey," Nikki says, "If you don't mind me asking, how'd you and Colby happen anyway?"

Evan glances over at her, eyebrow raised. "Why are you asking?"

"I don't know," Nikki says, "I'm bored, Colby never really said anything beyond the fact that you met in Afghanistan, I'm curious 'cause I'd never really have pegged you two as a couple. Take your pick of the options."

Evan snorts, returning his gaze to the darkness outside. "Not sure what there is to say," he says, "We met in Afghanistan. He was trying to teach my friend how to play poker, and after that we kept running into each other on base. We left Afghanistan around the same time, and when he was discharged, he'd coincidentally moved not too far from where I was stationed, so we started to hang out."

"Yeah, but like, you were both military," Nikki says, "Those rules they have -- what made you think it was worth the risk? I mean, you got punished just for loving him." Evan glances at her, isn't sure what expression he's wearing, but it makes Nikki wince. "Never mind, that was really out of line of me. Sorry."

Evan gives her a small smile, just to reassure her that it's not personal, and it's quiet in the car for several minutes as they resume their vigil. "At the end of the day," he says eventually, voice so quiet he's not sure she can hear him, even in the dead silence of the night. "I keep coming back to the fact that the Air Force was just a career. I'd dedicated most of my life to it, but it didn't change the fact that it was still just a career. I've been accused of being a workaholic, but there's still certain things I'll put above it."

"Hey! Hey!" Don's voice suddenly erupts from the earpiece. "We've got movement on the back wall! Move in!"

After they've chased after the suspect and then proceeded to lose him in an alley five blocks down, met up with Don and Randy to see if any of them got any helpful information or descriptions of the guy, Evan keeps expecting Nikki to mention it. Bring it up again, or ask another question.

She doesn't say or ask anything else as they walk away from Don and Randy, acting like the moment never happened. Instead she claps him on the shoulder and offers to drive him back home.

*

"Federal agents in the house!" Laura hollers, stepping aside to let them through the door. "Jeanette, hide all the illegal stuff."

"Why should I?" Jeanette says, "It all belongs to you. I'm in the clear. Hello Colby, Evan. I'm glad you could make it."

"Free food," Colby says, shrugging off his jacket. "We're working men. Of course we're going to show."

"Especially when we know Laura's not cooking," Evan adds, staggers dramatically at the punch when it connects with his arm.

"Barely through the front door and already it's like they're back in the playground," Jeanette shakes her head, heading back towards the kitchen.

"I know, right?" Colby says, following. "You think we should schedule them some nap time after dinner?"

Laura raises an eyebrow at him as their voices grow fainter. "Same humor as ever, I see," she says, lips quirking up.

Evan shrugs, grinning. "You should be used to it by now."

They head out to the balcony, the table already decked and ready. "How're you doing?" she asks, once they've settled in. "You look better."

"I looked bad before?" Evan asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Not always," Laura says frankly, "But everything would catch you sometimes and it'd make you sulky and irritable. Now you're smiling and kind of worryingly relaxed for a newbie agent."

"You'd rather I'd be reaching for my gun at every loud noise?"

"I said 'newbie agent' not 'PTSD'," Laura sighs dramatically. "I'm trying to be adult and have a serious conversation here."

Evan flashes an apologetic grin. "I know," he says, "I just -- I feel like I've been talking too much about it with everyone. I want to put it behind me. That was the whole point."

Laura watches him quietly for a moment, the silence shattered by laughter from inside.

From where Evan's sitting, he can see Colby laughing in the kitchen at something Jeanette's said, helping with the vegetables. It strikes him that they've never really hung out, the four of them, all that much in the past. Whenever Evan came to LA on leave, their schedules would never line up right, and when they did, Colby or Laura would usually end up with a call from work. He'd kind of subconsciously expected Colby to be a little out of the loop for the night, but now Colby's as relaxed and friendly with Jeanette as he is around David and Nikki.

"Okay," Laura says, "I mean, I still stand by what I said that you can't run for it, but I'd be fucking tired of questions by now too. So, tell me about your team. Who are they, what did they do before, what do you think, all that kind of stuff."

Evan takes the subject change gratefully; telling her about Natalie's stories about her days in the NYPD and Randy's weird collection of rubber ducks. He tries to just briefly mention the scene with Sarah, except Colby walks through the door with food before Evan can move on and says, "Hang on, there's way more to the story than that, dude."

"Oh really?" Laura says, perking up like a bloodhound finding a scent. She grins at Evan for a moment, before turning a much more innocent version of the smile on Colby. "What happened?"

Colby's expression conveys the fact that he knows exactly what she's doing, and Evan knows he would've told her even without prompting. "Don and Evan scared the _shit_ out of her," he says, "Like, she nearly cried, it was that bad."

"Evan, what did you do?" Jeanette asks, pausing on her way back into the kitchen to get the rest of the food.

"Dude, wait, I'll talk while we eat," Colby says, disappears into the apartment for a moment before he returns with the rest of the food. "Okay," he says, once they're all settled down. "So, apparently Don and Evan started this die hard game of slug bug with a hint of Fight Club, which means they don't actually talk about it or mention it. They decide to bring Sarah along to interview a witness, because Sarah's still kind of fresh when it comes to everything, and on the way, they pass by this line of Volkswagen Beetles parked outside some kind of center. They start punching without saying a word, but they're both laughing, and Sarah's in the back thinking they've lost it and asks them to stop, and Don -- fuck," Colby has to stop to laugh, and Evan can feel a smile of amusement breaking out on his own face, despite the fact that he's still embarrassed over this story, "Don tells her not to worry, because it'll be even worse when they drive past again on the way back."

"She came back to the office and asked about work abuse," Evan says. "We told her why it'd had happened, came clean, and --"

"-- and then Natalie fucked it all up again," Colby grins, "She told Sarah that if they stopped their game, their hidden and unstable aggression might make them lash out towards others instead."

"She believed it?" Jeanette asks, laughing.

"She still does," Evan sighs, "Nothing we do can convince her otherwise."

"Poor Sarah," Colby shakes his head, grinning. "I mean, she's really sharp when it comes to crime scenes and evidence, but concerning everything else, she's the most naive person I've met."

"You're keeping her, right?" Laura asks, "Please tell me you're keeping her. She sounds precious."

"We kind of have to, if we don't want rumors about Don and Evan getting around," Colby laughs, nudging Evan's knee with his own.

Jeanette distracts Colby with questions about working with Charlie after they finish dinner, something Evan hasn't done that much yet, so he is content to just sits back and listen.

Laura eventually leans over, fingers curling around his wrist and whispers, "So you're doing fine?"

He looks at her and Jeanette, both of them relaxed and flushed with laughter, and Colby who is currently tipping his chair back with his hair going in every which direction after running his hand through it, and he smiles back at her. "Yeah," he says, no doubt in his voice at all, even with hurt of the loss of Atlantis and his career spiking up at unpredictable moments. "Yeah, I am."

*

**2013**  
They're woken up on their day off two months later by the phone. Evan's been having a generally rough time sleeping lately, and he doesn't know when he fell asleep, just that it hadn't been deep. He tells Colby to just relax and ignore it, he'll deal with it and wake him if it turns out to be anything important. Colby mumbles an assent, not really awake, and Evan steps silently out into the kitchen to get the phone.

"Hello?"

"Evan Lorne?"

"Yeah?" Evan says, though a gut feeling has him fairly certain he already knows what this phone call is.

"This is Captain Hill with Stargate Command. We'd like to offer you a chance to rejoin the Atlantis expedition."

"You're doing this over the phone?" Evan asks, surprised. "Shouldn't I be talking to General Landry in a meeting room somewhere if that's the case?"

"This is just a call to schedule such a meeting, sir," the Captain says, "General Landry is overseeing these possible reinstatements personally, and if you're available to come out to Cheyenne sometime this week, he'll be the one to brief you properly on everything." There's a long moment of silence where the Captain doesn't continue speaking and Evan doesn't answer, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Should I schedule a time for you, sir?"

"Sure," he says, even as something knots itself in his stomach. "Pencil me in. I've got two days off, I'll see if I can't get on a flight soon."

"Ah," the Captain hesitates, "If you want, sir, we have a ship in orbit. If you'd give us your coordinates, we could beam you aboard directly."

"Give me half an hour," Evan says before giving the Captain his coordinates and cell phone number. He hangs up and stares at the phone for a moment, before he wanders back into the bedroom.

"Who was it?" Colby asks, lifting his head up off the pillow to watch Evan's approach of the bed.

"My old job," Evan says, "They want me to come back."

Colby's head drops back down onto the pillow. "Told you they would," he says quietly, "You going to accept it?"

"I don't know," Evan says eventually, after he's changed into some clothes he usually wears to work. "I'm going to head out for a meeting with them now. Talk things over. I just -- I can't let it lie."

"I know," Colby says, voice shaking, "I get that. I just... if you leave again, now, if we go back to where we were four years ago, I'm -- I'm not sure I can do that. Adjust all over again."

Evan swallows the lump in his throat, digs the palms of his hands into his eyes for a moment, before he crosses over to the bed and kneels down next to Colby, running a hand through his hair. "Hey," he says, waits until Colby looks at him. "I won't just leave."

"I know you won't," Colby says, and Evan leans in to give him a quick kiss, before he straightens and walks out of the bedroom, down the hall and outside.

His cell phone rings almost as soon as he steps foot outside the door, and before the person on the other end can say anything, he's beaten them to the punch. "I'm ready."

*

Cheyenne Mountain hasn't changed. Everything looks exactly as it had four years ago, but Evan still walks through the halls taking in every detail. He'd never expected to be back here.

His escort leads him directly to Landry's office, steps away at the door and motions Evan to step inside. "Lorne," Sheppard says, rising up from one of the guest chairs. He's grinning wide as he pulls him into a quick hug. "How you've been?"

"Same old," Evan says, eyebrow quirked. The office is otherwise empty. "What are you doing here?"

"Colonel Sheppard is still the military leader of Atlantis," General Landry says, "I thought it only fitting he sit in on this meeting. Please, gentlemen, take a seat."

They sink into their chairs, Sheppard immediately slouching down into a sprawl so familiar it almost makes him ache with the memory, and Landry's quiet for a moment before he says, "I deeply regret what happened concerning your discharge, Mr. Lorne. If there had been any way around it, we would have done what we could to keep you on."

"You already did, sir," Evan says, "More than most bases would under similar circumstances."

"Maybe," Landry allows, "But it's regrettable all the same. This repeal has given us a chance to right old wrongs, however, and we'd like to start with you."

"Why?" If it wasn't for the fact that Evan's a civilian now, he'd never have questioned the statement quite so bluntly.

"Someone with your talents are indispensable to the program," Landry says, "General Hammond said it was a hard decision to let you go on the Atlantis expedition, but I imagine it did not compare the decision that had to be made four years ago. Your old job on Atlantis is still there, and now we are in a position to fix things."

"You don't have an XO?" Evan asks Sheppard, who grins a little as he shrugs.

"Turns out I'm a terrible boss," he says, "They all liked to complain about it a lot, and I get enough of that from McKay."

Landry coughs, leveling Sheppard with an amused, but disapproving stare. "Naturally, it would take some time to draw up the necessary paperwork to reinstate you directly into your former rank, although I believe a demotion to Major would be required. You might also want to have your lawyer look over everything with you, should you --"

"No," Evan says, suddenly clearer in his answer than he's ever been in all the theoretical situations he's put himself in. "I'm grateful for the offer, and I appreciate it, but I can't go back. I had a life on Atlantis before. Now, it's in LA."

"Very well," Landry says, after a long moment of silence. "If you change your mind, the offer will still stand."

It's still a while before Evan and Sheppard leave the office -- complete details still need to be gone over and assurances that yes, he's sure of his choice.

"I did actually meant that part about my XOs," Sheppard says, walking with him up within reach of the transportation system. "They all hate me. I was hoping you'd come back and save me from their sad and hateful stares."

Evan laughs. "Sorry to let you down."

Sheppard shrugs, "I'll find someone."

"You should try Cadman," Evan says, "She wants to come back, her and Jeanette."

"McKay would hate me," Sheppard says, but sounds the opposite of upset by the idea. "I'll look into it."

"Just don't mention I recommended her," Evan says, "She really doesn't like paperwork."

"Who does?" Sheppard scoffs, then his voice grows serious as he says, "There's a couple of people back there'd who'll be surprised you didn't say yes."

"Yeah, I know," Evan says, "To be honest, I am too. For the past four years, I kept thinking of what it'd be like to go back there. I never knew if I'd be able to say no, should the offer ever come my way, but when it finally did, I realized that..." he trails off, unsure of how to end it.

Sheppard's lips twist upwards, voice completely dry as he suggests: "That there's something better than Atlantis right here on Earth?"

Evan laughs. "Not always," he says, "But enough of the time, yeah."

*

"You're back quick," Colby says, surprised, when Evan steps through the door shortly before two. His voice is carefully guarded as he follows it up with, "How'd it go?"

"Fine," Evan says, "They offered me my old position back. I declined their offer."

"Yeah?" Colby says, so much emotion laced into a single word. He laughs, brittle. "If you're joking, I swear to God, I'll punch you."

"I'm not joking," Evan says, walking slowly towards him. His arms are up in a placating gesture and he has a small soft smile on his face. "I'm staying."

"Shit," Colby says, pained. The amazing thing is, Evan thinks, that the pain in that word is not for them, but for Evan, because Colby knows enough to understand what it had taken to decline that offer. "I don't care how selfish I sound right now, but I'm so fucking glad you are."

"Yeah," Evan says, pressing his lips against Colby's softly, but unable to deny the hint of desperation in it. "So am I."


End file.
